Posted in Writing books, Writing craft

“Write what you know” – An outdated concept?

I just finished reading B.S. Shapiro’s extraordinary novel The Art Forger.  Not to give it away (because you really ought to read it), it’s the story of an aspiring artist who makes her living wage doing reproductions of famous artwork that are sold as that – copies.  She does “copies” not forgeries – which is all about the intent of the piece.

I picked the book up in the first place because it is at least partly about Edgar Degas’ work, and I’ve been 20,000 words into a manuscript that revolves around Degas’ ballerina sculptures for several years now, having put it on the back burner while I finished other pieces of writing for publication (and in the meantime noting that I’m not the only writer of historical fiction who has found this an interesting subject).  To say that I’m a devotee of Degas’ work might be stretching it a bit, but I am a fan, and I find some of the unanswered questions about historical characters too tantalizing to ignore (remember my book about Edgar Allan Poe?).

"More than a century and a half have passed since Edgar Allan Poe died, alone in Baltimore in 1849, and still no one really knows how - or even why he was in that city. But Bridget knows, and this is her story."
“More than a century and a half have passed since Edgar Allan Poe died, alone in Baltimore in 1849, and still no one really knows how – or even why he was in that city. But Bridget knows, and this is her story.”

Anyway, as I read the book, I felt myself becoming very educated about the fine points of both the art and the science of oil painting.  I relied on the author of this fictional piece to have done her homework: I wanted to believe in the details that so made the story feel authentic and rich.  But I always kept in the back of my mind that this is a work of fiction…so the question always becomes: where is the line between fiction and fact drawn in these kinds of tales, and does it matter?

Most authors whose  fictional work touches on real people, places and things take great pride in doing their homework, and there is usually a note in the book somewhere indicating the aforementioned line: where researched facts give over to the imagination of the writer. So what, you might reasonably ask, does this have to do with the question of whether or not we should take heed of the old adage: “Write what you know”?  It occurs to me that in these days of the World Wide Web, we can “know” a great deal more than we used to!

There was a time when research was much more difficult.  If you’re as old as I am, you might remember slogging to the library to comb through page after page of real reference guides, real books, and real documents.  I have to say that I think back on those days with fondness; I truly enjoyed those hours spent among the great tomes crammed with information just aching to get out.  The trouble was just how long it took to actually find that information that would provide those all-important nuggets that add depth and breadth to a piece of writing.

The truth is that today, we can become semi-experts in many topics if we know how to do the research.

Writing in the New York Times earlier this year, Ben Yagoda, author of How to Not Write Bad: The Most Common Writing Errors and the Best Ways to Avoid Them and a faculty member in the English Department at the University of Delaware, clarifies for us as follows:

“Writers who are intimately familiar with their subject produce more knowing, more confident and, as a result, stronger results…the idea is to investigate the subject till you can write about it with complete confidence and authority. Being a serial expert is actually one of the cool things about the very enterprise of writing…”[1] 

And therein lays the wonder of these days of information overload: for writers, this overload is among the most essential tools in our toolboxes.

The trick, as with all tools, is to become an expert at using it!

As my own writing segued from non-fiction into fiction, I’ve been forever grateful for the research skill I was able to hone through the years.  For any of us who are writing fiction with a basis in fact, those skills are crucial to the authentic voice we all seek.


[1] Ben Yagoda.  Should we write what we know?  The New York Times online, July 22, 2013, http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/07/22/should-we-write-what-we-know/?_r=0

Posted in Journals, Writing, Writing craft

A tale of two modes: Paper versus digital

My beloved notebook and my even more beloved computer!
My beloved notebook and my even more beloved computer!

The irony was not lost on me.  As I downloaded Natalie Goldberg’s new book The True Secret of Writing: Connecting Life with Language I knew I was treading on sacred ground: you see (if you are not familiar with Natalie Goldberg, which you should be if you think you’re a writer) Natalie’s writing philosophy is deeply underpinned by the notion of the writing flowing from the heart, through the arm and out the pen as you move your hand across the paper.  Although she acknowledges the utility of the computer, and no doubt uses it herself, the paper clearly has the upper hand in the paper versus digital divide for writing practice.

Last week I changed offices again at the university.  Yes, my time chained to my desk toiling away at chairman-type duties has finally come to an end.  Few people understand the concept of peer governance in university departments: that’s when we all take a turn at being “in charge” and spend a year or two or three with all the responsibility and no authority.  I have done my duty now three times – one for a full three-year term and twice to fill in for year-long sabbaticals for others – and now return to doing what I do best and prefer.  That would be teaching and writing.  However, changing offices is not without its substantial benefits.

true secret of writing natalie goldbergThe requirement to take files out of cabinets and books off shelves gives one a moment to pause and consider whether or not one actually needs all that paper.  And that question refers equally to one’s creation as much as to one’s consumption.

First I’m thinking about my consumption – of books, documents, pamphlets (does anyone actually produce these things today?), newspaper clippings, print-outs of academic articles, notes, and the list goes on.  It’s only recently that I succumbed to the eBook mania and began downloading books on my IPad.  What I’ve discovered is that I actually read faster on the IPad – although I still love that feel of a real book in my hands.  Now, though, I can have a whole library in the space of one IPad.  Who can argue with that notion?

So, I’ve taken the view that anything on paper that needs to be kept should be digitalized and saved on a hard drive.  I’ve been doing this both at work and at home.  As I move ever closer to early retirement, and my husband and I move ever closer to right-sizing our living accommodation, we have purged all manner of paper – photos being the number one culprit.  Even all those old photos of our ancestors just after the advent of the widespread use of photography from the early 20th century.  Yup, all scanned and digitalized, and the paper products recycled.  It’s such a feeling of a burden of paper being lifted off our shoulders.  So those are some consumption thoughts.  What about creation?

I create a lot of paper.  All I have to do is open the bottom file drawer in my desk to see that I do love to keep paper copies of my writing.  I write on a computer and I print out everything.  And I do love my writing journals.  I won’t go on about them now – since I’ve done that before – but it does bear repeating that there is nothing quite like a new journal and a pen that glides smoothly over the pages.  If you can get that just right, you can be in writing heaven.  But my hand gets a cramp these days.

Does this mean that I’m confined to the computer forever?  As I’ve begun to read Natalie Goldberg’s book (on my IPad), I begin to get excited again about the possibilities of those ideas truly flowing from head to heart to hand in just that physical way.  I actually dug out one of my hard-backed journals and did some writing practice.  The ideas did flow – but the unfortunate result was a severe hand cramp.  So, I’m back at the computer this morning as I embark on two months of writing.

There was a tie when I’d do a ten-minute timed writing as Natalie suggests every morning before I stared what I considered to be my real writing.  To me that’s a bit like sitting meditation before beginning work: something I should do but often neglect.  Like my return to my daily meditation, perhaps writing practice on paper is something I should get back to.  My only question that still remains though is what to do with all that paper!

I have a list of half- and quarter-completed writing projects, and one that isn’t started but has to be finished by August 1 (only 1500 words for that one, so no problem).  So, pe or keyboard, I better get at it.

What are your thoughts on pen and paper for writing practice?

Posted in Backstory, Book covers, Publishing, Self-Publishing

Finding a home for the next book: Traditional or self-publishing is the question

Film StripI received an email yesterday from my editor at the University of Toronto Press with the news that we’re now embarking on the cover design for my new book.  Although this is good news (I had been wondering where we were in the process after I sent him the final edits back in January before I went on vacation, it got me thinking yet again about the traditional book publishing process .

This marks the ninth time (ten if you count a second edition) that I’ve been through this traditional publishing process where control is largely given over to the publisher.  The truth is that I’ve been more or less happy with the outcomes as I look at them winking at me from the top shelf above me; the process, however, has not been without considerable frustration.  I’ve also gone the self-publishing route three times now, and I’m kind of at a crossroads.  I have a new book ready to make the rounds – and have queried a couple of agents already – but I’m still wondering if I should do it myself.

This reflection on my publishing adventures resulted this time from my editor’s simple statement in his email: “…Time and budgetary restraints being what they are, we’re unable to ask our designers to come up with a cover completely from scratch. Rather, it falls to you (and to me)…” and then we’re to send this to the so-called designers.  It seems to me that a designer should be doing the designing, and if he or she isn’t doing the designing, what in the world is he or she being paid to do?

This might seem to you to be the moment in time when I make that decision to move to self-publishing for that next book, but I’m also reeling from yet another telephone call from iUniverse – an attempt to sell me yet more services thinly disguised as a wonderful opportunity for me.

Here’s what happened earlier this week.

At dinner time one evening (they are always at dinner time when I’m feeling just ready to punch the next telemarketer who calls despite being on the do-not-call list) the phone rang.  The caller was a “marketing specialist” or consultant or manager or some such thing; iUniverse seems to either have an enormous staff or massive turnover since this is the third or fourth such person to whom I have evidently been assigned.  Several incarnations ago I asked them not to call me with marketing ideas ever again.

Grace Note Cover PaperbackIf you’ve read my blog for a while, you know that my avocation is writing historical fiction – I do love that research and the need to shed everyday life to get into the head of characters from long-ago times and places.  Grace Note: In Hildegard’s Shadow was published by iUniverse a couple of years ago now.  It was selected as an Editor’s Choice book (meaning that since I’d paid to have it professionally edited and I didn’t sound like a moron it would get this stamp), and thereafter chosen as a “Rising Star” (not sure how high up the scale of non-moronic a book has to be to receive this elevation).   All of the editing etc. that was done made the book more polished and professional to be sure, but it did not come cheap.  And make no mistake, every time anyone called after that to extol the virtues of my book, they were indeed trying to sell me services.  This time it was that it is so good that it should be a movie.  Would you be interested in having it shown to Thruline Entertainment?

I told him to send me an email and hung up (I was more polite than that, but that’s the edited version of the story).

The email arrived in due course (read; immediately).  Here’s what he said in part:

I called in earlier today to inform you that your book, “Grace Note” can be adapted into a motion picture.

Hollywood Coverage: Your book has all the elements Hollywood wants — an exciting plot, well-developed characters and fresh content — yet there’s still a crucial piece you need in order to be taken seriously by established entertainment executives.

We would like to know if you’d be interested to have your books presented to our newly acquired partner, THRULINE Entertainment. THRULINE is a Hollywood production company and they are basically looking for good books to adapt into a movie.

The contract has just been sealed last August and basically we want to impress our new partner. We don’t want to provide them with a “just-an-ordinary” material. We are putting our best foot forward because we want to prolong this contract.

If you’re interested, your book just needs a Script coverage in order for us to present this to production companies and producers. That is the basic tool that they would look for instead of reading the whole book.

He then went on to tell me that the two-part script coverage would be done by a professional who has done this before etc.  What he did not tell me was the price or any reference to the fact that he wants to sell me a service, but I knew that this was precisely what was happening.  And indeed research on Thruline uncovers a company with self-described ties to the Hollywood machine that works with self-publishing companies to part authors from their money.  Well, they didn’t’ say it that way but I can read between the lines!

Of course, if your book is really adaptable as a movie, you can send it to an agent who does this kind of thing.  Options on books can and are taken from the book itself.  And doesn’t it make sense that someone who is actually interested in adapting your book might actually have to read the book?  Yes, script “coverages” are done, but really?  I actually had an earlier book optioned and learned that the vast majority of optioned books never even make it to treatment phase.

The iUniverse price for this script coverage is $859.00.

This is what I said in my response to the email:

Thanks for this.  Don‘t bother telephoning me.  I’m not paying upwards of $900 for any more service from iUniverse.  If you think the book is good enough to be sold to “Hollywood” then I think you should be willing to put up the money for a percentage on the back end.  Otherwise, we have nothing to talk about.  I’m an accomplished writer – I can do this myself.

I think it’s time iUniverse took a different tack when it comes to ‘services’ for writers.

But call he did.  This time I didn’t answer. So where does this story lead me?  Well, this morning as I checked my Twitter feed I came across a link to a blog post titled “Publishing 101 – Money” on The Passive Voice blog whose author considers whether or not the price of self-publishing is worth it.  She and I agree that it is, but it does seem to me that there is a limit to what one should reasonably spend.

Self-publishing requires an author to be a writer, editor, interior book designer, cover designer, marketer and promoter.  So is this so different from traditional publishing these days?

When an editor at a traditional publishing house tells me that he is “unable to ask [their] designers to come up with a cover completely from scratch…” it seems that the two publish models are getting closer together.

So, am I any closer to a decision about my next book’s home?  Not really.